


Throwing Clots

by diamondgore



Series: Overindulged Paranoia [4]
Category: Dawn of X - Fandom, X-Force (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Blood, Gen, Mild Gore, Misuse of Sophie's power., Near Death Experiences, mostly melancholy, no one actually dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:14:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25910413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diamondgore/pseuds/diamondgore
Summary: Their connection is inhumane and torturous. They'll be together for life and death.
Relationships: Sophie Cuckoo & Quentin Quire
Series: Overindulged Paranoia [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1827157
Kudos: 8





	Throwing Clots

**Author's Note:**

> Just an idea I had about death and forgiveness. Especially in the context of constant resurrection.

When Quentin sent out his telepathic distress signal, he wasn’t expecting someone to find him lying on the beach. The stars above him were beginning to shine in the dulling twilight. His body was cold, partially from the blood loss, and partly from the cold sea breeze. He had been attacked running from a Russian. Logan was still somewhere in Moscow, but Quentin didn’t give a fuck. 

He was only partially lucid when he heard the footsteps throughout the Krakoan forest. He had his eyes closed, hoping a telepathic aura would tell him who’d come to his rescue if they could make it in time in the first place. He had died before. He knew how the blood in his mouth tasted as it dried. 

“I got here as fast as I could. I felt so much pain— oh.” A soft gasp escaped her lips. 

“Thank God, Phoebe, I thought I might have well died.” He sighed out loud before his brain corrected him. His eyes weren’t even open, but from her aura, he could tell this was not Phoebe. The aura was something much stronger, less bitter, more melancholy. 

“I should go.” She stopped in her steps, but he would die if she left him here. “Maybe—” 

The air was heavier than it was with humidity—a sinking stone bringing Sophie and Quentin down. Sophie stared at Quentin’s body, unsure of her next move. 

“Sophie,” He can’t believe this was the second time he was alone with her, and she was watching him wither on the floor like a worm. Part of him was embarrassed and ashamed that this was how they keep meeting. The other part is yelling for her to stay. Quentin had to ask, as he felt her turn away. 

“I’m dying. Please stay.” His voice was trembling. “I don’t want to be alone.” 

They could come back if they asked. Quentin was important. He was on X-Force, so he would not be dead for long. But each time he died scared and alone was too terrible, too lonely. His hand was pressed tightly on his leg. 

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need this.” 

Sophie was torn. She did not want this, she should have let Esme take the call, not her, but she wanted to be heroic again. She had the potential to be a good superhero, but what were morals if you never applied them? It happened instantly, the choice to stay. 

She ran across the sand, her boots crunching the soft white sand beneath her. Taking off her black shawl, she placed it down on the beach, underneath herself and Quentin. Her mind was flashing, as Quentin’s unshielded telekinetic aura was clashing with hers. Quentin’s mind was distracting her, as he was bleeding out in front of her. 

“What happened? Can you tell me?” She removed his hands from the injury, pressing hers against it instead. She comes up with the great idea to take off one of her black gloves, and tie it around his thigh. It helped with the bleeding, but she still needed to apply pressure. She took her other glove, and compressed it, placing it firmly on Quentin’s thigh. 

“Classified.” He felt better immediately. Sure, the pain from his leg was sharp and burning, but just Sophie’s touch was helping. 

“Ugh. Don’t tell me then.” 

No, he realized, it wasn’t her touch. She was turning off his pain centers. She was searching through his mind. It was uncatalogued and chaotic. The Library of Alexandria on fire, but constantly reconstructing itself. 

He forced her out with a zap to her brain. 

“Don’t be a nosey bitch. I said it’s classified.” His teeth grit as his hands fall off his thigh; his pain sensors were quickly coming back on.

She fell backward into the sand, rubbing her temples. She retorted the attack, increasing the sensitivity of his pain receptors. “I’ll fucking melt your brain if you do that again. I’m trying to help you.” 

Quentin screamed and thrashed. 

Sophie re-positioned herself on her knees, with her hands once more, on his thigh. She wasn’t going to give up on him, even if he was a bastard. Slowly, she began dulling the sensitivity to his pain. She was using all the concentration in the world to keep him from passing out. That was the point of no return. 

The problem was that Quentin was still going to die. She can feel his pulse getting weaker. She can’t let him die. Her heart was trembling in her chest as the realization dawned on her. The truth of the situation was it was much more than both life and death. 

Not on her watch, not ever. 

Sophie grit her teeth so hard, she chipped the tip of her morals. Her eyes were beginning to form tears. This wasn’t fair. Quentin could not die. Her hands squeezed his thighs even tighter. 

“Soph, are you that sad for me?” Quentin said weakly, as he felt her a wet tear on his leg. “I’ll come back if I die…I…”

  
  


Sophie’s knuckles were white. “No, I’m not sad for you. I wouldn’t be sad if you were gone…”

“It just that it would not be fair! It would not be fair for me. If you die, it cancels what you did out. You are off the hook because I let you die. You never have to feel remorse again in your life. I know make up half of the presence in your mind. I force you to be good. You cannot die so you can forget what you did to me.” 

Sophie sobbed into his leg. Her emotional distress was not misplaced. She had not turned her heart into a diamond like the rest. She thought of herself as someone better, someone sympathetic. Her breath was heavy. “If you die, Quentin, that means I suffered for nothing.” 

Her mind was searching through every possible way to keep him alive. And the only thing she can remember was psychic surgery, a passive joke Phoebe had made while studying for an operation to aid Cecilia. 

But maybe, that was the solution. Sophie could hijack Quentin’s cells into clotting in a better way. She had some knowledge about the human body, and cells had nuclei that she could access and control. 

“Sophie…”

It could be that simple. 

It was mostly bravery that allowed her to close her eyes tightly and force Quentin’s apologetic voice out of her head. She focused on Quentin’s white blood cells, and the endothelial cells around his injury. She called for them to release tissue factor, to help trigger the clotting cascade. Controlling thousands of cells at the same time was an exhilarating experience. 

It seemed to be working. Sophie was managing Quentin’s pain and helping him clot. 

But the tradeoff was clear. Sophie was now bleeding from her orifices. Her nose, mouth, and ears were all bleeding. Her brain was overheating from the pressure it was under, but she couldn’t let him even the playing field. 

“You’re being too hard on yourself, Sophie, you need to stop.” Quentin’s power was too weak against her overcharged brain, tapping into that power deep inside her that she had never used before.

Well, not unless the time on kick counted. 

She sent another distress signal to her sisters to get her. Sophie was not going to let out until her brain melted out of her ears. That fantastic flame of power in her was beginning to go down, and she as slowly starting to fade out of consciousness. 

To Quentin, it felt like each second was agony when Sophie was withering. As her power waned, the pain came back, it was slow, and Quentin couldn’t adjust to the rapidly increasing pain. 

Sophie’s grip loosened on his thighs. He was beginning to bleed again. 

“Shit.” 

She slipped off of his legs and fainted with her head bloody into the sand. Hastily, Quentin grabbed her hand with the cloth and pressed it against his leg again. He fumbled with his fingers to check her pulse. 

It was weak and faint, but it was there. 

His thick stubby fingers were wrapped tightly around her delicate wrist. Quentin closed his eyes again, hoping her sisters could find a way to teleport to the beach. The night was getting colder, and the beach was pulling closer. 

He could rest for a moment. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr [@diamongore](https://diamondgore.tumblr.com), and on twitter [@goremeat! ](https://twitter.com/goremeat)
> 
> [](https://twitter.com/goremeat)  
> Please leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed !


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